♡ dear diary… ✁࿓ (014)
dear diary,
sorry for leaving you hanging. yuuji had entered the room, and i didn't want him to find you.
i've put a kuromi sticky note on the page where i stopped, and i'll put one when i tell you the rest of my night with toge. it's those sticky notes that aren't fully sticky, so you can bookmark with it. toge got a hello kitty pack, and gave me the kuromi ones.
i like kuromi. she's a bad bitch, like me.
anyway.
i felt a bit weird today. i received a letter, except i don't usually receive letters. so i looked at the return address, and there wasn't anything. so i opened it, and there was a letter, some bills, and an old photograph inside.
it was from my mom.
i don't want to talk about her. she doesn't deserve it.
but she knows about my life. because of yuuji. he kept in touch with her.
he said she's doing better, and that i should talk to her. i punched him when he said that.
the others stopped me right after, but it was too late anyway: he wanted me to talk to her. i resent her but she's still my mother, so i won't insult her... i feel bad when i do. like it's wrong.
anyway, i punched yuuji and i expected toge to be the first to tell me off, because yuuji is his baby, his favourite. but he didn't. he stared at me and grabbed my hand, too softly (it made me nervous). then, he pulled me inside the bathroom and said "tell me about her".
i didn't want to, but he specified: "why should i punch her?" and it might sound stupid, dear diary, but i feel like he really got me there.
so i told him. he already knew a bit, but i told him more. i told him why i didn't want to see her, and why i didn't want her money or nostalgia.
i didn't tell him about the nights spent outside with her, when she'd pretend she was drunk so we could "practice" bringing her home. or how she was a nice drunk, but still, i didn't want her like this at all. nice drunks are nice people, they don't harm. and the nights she made us believe she was drunk so we could learn how to handle her in the streets, and in the subway, and how to lift her despite her weight (because she was an adult and we were only seven or eight, or maybe ten)— i didn't tell him that. i don't think anyone would believe it.
also, when i told ume and mai about one of those drunk nights, i ended up in tears. i don't want to cry. even if it's angry tears.
anyway.
i told toge and i didn't cry. then, he stared and asked me where was the envelope. i told him, he left the bathroom for a bit, and came back with it.
"what do you wanna do with the money?"
i wanted to burn it, cut it into a thousand pieces, throw it at her face. but we didn't grow up privileged enough for me to go through with that.
"... give it to yuuji." sending gifts back is impolite. that's why i did it.
toge put the bills away and took out the letter. "what do you wanna do with this?"
i shrugged. i felt conflicted, i think.
"i wanna cut it." i added, "then keep it."
it felt different that way. like i was still angry... even though i don't know why i'd keep it. but toge nodded, and told me we'd do it later.
then, he took out the photograph. it was the five of us: grandpa, dad, mom, yuuji and me. it was very old.
"what do we do with this?" his tone was softer.
i didn't think twice. "hide it. don't tell me where... just hide it. and don't tell me when it's done. don't give me hints... pretend it never happened."
my eyes got wet for a second, because i remembered the ending to a show i really liked and somehow this felt like it.
toge kissed my forehead and stroked my cheek. "whatever you need." he made me look at him. "no more punching, okay?"
this made me cry a bit. he held me against him and pet my hair. it felt too nice.
i hate myself for this, dear diary, but when he was comforting me, the only thing i kept thinking was: i need a drink.
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i want to mention that while yes, the conditions that palestinians live in is horrid, palestine is still a beautiful place.
there are so many stories of people returning from their trip to palestine and all of them saying that they were disgusted and horrified and the living conditions they say the palestinians were in were just awful, and while yes all of that is true, and palestinians do live in ridiculous conditions, i still want to make it clear that palestine is an insanely beautiful place. our mountains are beautiful, our plants are beautiful, our mosques, our churches, our olive trees, our birds. palestine is a beautiful place. it is the birthplace of both christianity and judaism, it is the birthplace of jesus. our temples are astonishing, our food is delicious, our culture is rich, and our diversity is beyond. our dances are beautiful, our clothing, our jewlery, our homes. each and every one of our lives is precious.
go to any palestinian home in the world and you'll see beautiful things. the west wants to get rid of us, to completely decimate every part of our existence, but we will not let them. and we need everyone on our side to help us keep palestine's beauty safe.
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